


delight the shadows we have made

by Cicadaemon



Category: The Terror (TV 2018), The Terror - Dan Simmons
Genre: 12 Days of Carnivale, Fluff, Multi, Pining, Post-Canon Fix-It, Pre-Canon, Teasing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-13
Updated: 2018-12-22
Packaged: 2019-09-17 14:47:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 7,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16976568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cicadaemon/pseuds/Cicadaemon
Summary: Day Five:So many questions. He had heard of a snowball fight getting out of hand down the way, but this was something else.





	1. a special disguise (John Goodsir/Edward Forbes)

**Author's Note:**

> A fair warning, I am not writing exclusively to characters that only appear in the Terror. I'm sure those from Tumblr know I love the Goodsir family so... I did write a bit about John Goodsir....
> 
> Also a few of these are connected to my other fic, For The Beaufort Sea, just warning.

As the clock had drawn toward midnight, John had been pushed out into the cold, air. Each breath was like a punch to the lungs and even with his winter coat on he was freezing. He thinks he should be used to this by now.

Every year since he had hit his growth spurt (massive it was as he was well over 6 feet now and towered over even his father) he had played has the Goodsir’s first guest into the home for Hogmanay, or as the sasanach would say New Year’s Day. He had loved it once, when he had been nimble enough to stay indoors for the clock to hit only to climb out the living room window and run to the front door. He was the tallest of them all, with fine dark hair, so as the custom would go, he’d bring them good luck.

Now it seemed ridiculous. No luck could be found in the foolishness of a son pretending to be a guest to his own home. He was ridiculous himself, in that he still did it to keep the tradition going. He could pass the mantle onto Harry perhaps, though he stood at an average height, had bounds of black curls and enthusiasm. But no, that wouldn’t do.

“If you step through the threshold, you shan’t bring luck to yourself,” He had told his little brother as he slipped on the coat. Harry had made a face at that, so John continued to clarify. “The Arctic, Henry. You’ll need all the luck you can get when you get there.”

Harry had given him a smile then, tight lipped and unhappy. “You really should have more faith in me.”

“I have all the faith in you. Maybe it’s my pride as a Scotsman that denies me pride in your Captains and crew.”

Harry had laughed, and John had stepped out into the snow. And now here he was.

He pulled out his pocket watch, seeing as it got closer to midnight. Nearly a minute away now. Maybe this wasn’t a bad way to go into the New Year, staring out into the dark snowy sky. Being right on the Firth meant that they didn’t get a proper winter, but it scarcely ever came up below freezing this time around, so the whole village was covered in more than a fine helping of snow. It was beautiful. He looked up to the sky, squinting as little snowflakes got into his eyes and let his mind wander about. That was until he was snapped out of it by approaching footsteps.

“What are you doing out here in the snow,” The accent was wrong for the region, horribly, terribly Manx with such a nasally tone. John looked to his left to where the voice came and saw such a familiar face.

“What in God’s name are you doing here?” John cried out, stepping towards Edward. His friend smiled big.

“Thought you needed a guest.”

Oh, how his heart swelled and breaked at that. His Edward coming all this way for him. John kepted walking forward, till they met halfway. Arms were thrown around each other, and they fell into the side of the house, hidden away from the light of the moon. They held each other like that for a moment, taking in each other. He could feel how Edward breathed beneath him, so warm and alive. For a moment he forgot himself, and was transported away to nights when they had no one, but each other to enjoy. Soft kisses and gentle touches; sighs he would let go as Edward kissed down the expanse of his body.

There were the memories of soft looks and loving touches in this hug, and John didn’t want to let go. It was the cheering they could hear from the households that reminded them were they were and what was happen. 1845 was in full swing, and he was happy to have Edward in his arms for it. They barely let go, only moving apart enough to look at each other; noses brushing against each other.

Normally, one should be afraid of showing his homosexual love in a street in some fishing town in Scotland, but they wore the shadows of the house like a mask. Unseen. Unrecognisable. A clever, and a special disguise only they could wear.

They kissed then, soft little pecks at first delving deeper and deeper till John was swimming.  It was only when his obligations came rushing back to him, did he break away, flustered. He looked around the street, making sure no one saw. All he was greeted with was a still empty street, with empty windows looking back.

“A little skittish, are we?” Edward whispered, his face red and a toothy smiled on his face. John could not return this.”

“Mister Edward Forbes-“

“Doctor is more correct-“

“If we were caught-“

“But we weren’t”

John felt his face twitch then. The little bastard wasn’t going to argue with him properly. He had to let it go. If there was no damage, then why cry? He sighed heavily, distantly aware of the pain in his back that seemed to get worse the longer he stood. Time to go in.

“I have to be the first-footer.” He said softly. “A role I bear with burden.”

“You wouldn’t bear it if you didn’t like it,” Edward retorted, picking up the fallen suitcase as he did so. “Can I do it for you? I’m not so tall, but I have dark hair. I know that’s suppose to bring you luck, right?”

John smiled. He should be happy, and he was happy that Edward knew him so well. That he cared for him so well.

“I hope you know,” John whispered. “how much I love you.”

“You can shower me in words later.” Edward whispered back. “For now, I’d like to get out of the cold and into the house.”

John nodded and led him to the door. Inside was family, some of who knew who he was. Once his father would go to bed, he’d sit in Edward’s lap in plain view of his siblings and accept the sharp remarks from Robert and careful glances from Jane. Perhaps Harry would make a smartass comment? Either way, he’d be content.

He opened the door for his lover, and with a quick wave of his hand spoke. “After you, darling.”


	2. state of grace (Harry Goodsir/Lady Silence)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What he craved what a warm body to hold to chase away the cold that still lingered in his bones.

Some nights Harry felt as though he was still aboard the ship. The house would creak and groan during the night, and it didn’t take much for him to imagine it was the Erebus crying out around him from the ice pressing into her hull.

When it got to be too much, he’d turn over in bed, and press face to whatever part of Silna he could. Sometimes she would wake, a soft noise similar to how a cat would chirp if you woke them up and snuggle into him without any hesitation. Some nights she would kiss him, lazily or perhaps with fire that would soon lead to other things creaking for more wonderful reasons.

During the day, he found little comfort when it all became to much, but their bedroom had become a place of sanctuary where he could ignore every heartache and terrible memory just to be help by or to hold his sweet wife. To say the least, he looked forward to the evenings.

On one night, he made his way upstairs to the room only to not find her there. Jane had told him she had gone up early so to see that she was not there caused panic to rise in him. That was until he saw the joining bathroom door open a touch.

He opened the door only to back out flushed. There was no bath tub on the upper floor. His family was well off, but my god they were rich. Didn’t mean there was no drain in the bath and it made a good room for quickly rinsing off at days end. Which Silna had obviously been doing.

He could hear her laughing at him and he fell back onto the bed, hands clasped over his face.  He propped himself up in time to see her exit the room with a simple shift thrown over.

“You are too funny,” She said, The hand language she spoke had been hard to understand at first, but now he understood it well enough.

“I’m sorry. I owe you some privacy.” He could feel how hot his face was and felt him self blush deeper thinking on what he saw.

“I don’t think that matters when you’ve seen me naked so many times.”

“You are terrible.”

She gave him a big grin before nodded enthusiastically. She stepped forward till she was right on him and brought herself down on the bed carefully, before she seemed to change her mind. Silna let all her weight come crashing down onto him and they fell back onto the bed laughing. She pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth and laughed when he sloppily returned it.

How the night would continue did not shine with state of being in God’s grace, not that Harry craved the approval of any God anymore. What he craved what a warm body to hold to chase away the cold that still lingered in his bones.

And Silna did much more than that. She gave him all the reasons to keep waking up in the morning.


	3. naughty or nice (Thomas Jopson/Edward Little)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As he entered the cabin by himself, he couldn’t help, but think -or rather gush- about how nice Thomas Jopson was. The sweetest sort of man. His smiles were brighter than any star, and his touches always so gentle and soft, like the way snow would fall onto your skin. Little, much like the snow, melted at the warmth that was his lover.

 “Will you be going to the Carnivale?”

Little knew the answer before he even asked. Of course, Thomas wouldn’t be going. He’d be caring for their poor Captain as he struggled with demons both physical and emotional. Of course, how stupid to ask. But still he wanted an answer.

“Afraid not,” Jopson replied as he folded up some linens. “Captain was improving quite steadily there for a bit, but I’m afraid we are starting to reach a stagnant part of his recover.” He looked up to Little with a small smile on his face. “It’s all a mental challenge now.”

“I see,” He bit his lip, unsure of how to continue. “Well I’ll miss you there.”

“And I will miss you here.”

As they walked back to the cabin, Little felt his stomach tug as he worried. He didn’t want to go to Carnivale, though he could see its appeal, but he wasn’t one for really mingling. He was terribly awkward, and no matter how he tried he could never seem to get over this. He needed someone there that he liked well enough to be with him. He was in a sense a badly made version of Mr. Darcy. Thinking this, he had to draw the comparison that Jopson would be his Lizzie Bennett, not far thinking considering how terribly he was teased by him, though his teasing was far dirtier than anything Miss Austen had ever written.

“I have to put a few of these linens to the Captain’s room,” Jopson said as they watched down the hallway lead to said cabin. “And some shall go in mine. Would you wait in my cabin? So we may talk a little before you have to go? Perhaps I could help you set up a costume?”

Little nodded at this, excited by the idea of spending time alone. “I’d like that. I must admit I have waited till the last moment.”

That smile Jopson gave him made his heart falter something delightful. “Of course, you know I’m always more than happy to help.”

As he entered the cabin by himself, he couldn’t help, but think -or rather gush- about how nice Thomas Jopson was. The sweetest sort of man. His smiles were brighter than any star, and his touches always so gentle and soft, like the way snow would fall onto your skin. Little, much like the snow, melted at the warmth that was his lover.

When Jopson entered the cabin, he remembered then, that he wasn’t all kindness. The second the door was slid shut, a bruising kiss was pressed to his lips. Thomas nipped at his lips and Edward could feel his knees give with the rush of pleasure this created. He was suddenly on the bed, the mattress hard beneath him and Thomas soft above.

“I feel terrible for not getting to spend more time with you,” He had whispered against Edward’s lips. “My duties ask things of me, but if I could I would spend all my time with you.”

“And I as well,” Edward whispered before pressing another kiss to him. “We’ll have all the time together when we get back to England. Loafing about and becoming lazy.”

Thomas laughed softly at this. “I would love that so much. To grow grey and wrinkled with you is my greatest dream.”

Edward loved to imagine that, there was a whole future out there where he’d get to spend it with Thomas. Once this was over, he couldn’t imagine going back to sea, perhaps he’d retire and find work else where. They could get a flat in London, or anywhere really. Perhaps Bristol? He had always loved Bristol. But first, they had to get home.

“My other dream though less of a dream and more a goal is to make squirm and scream with pleasure.” Thomas said with a small laugh, before nipping his lips again. “I am very curious as to what noises you’d make if there was no fear of us getting caught and whipped.”

He laughed at this. “Please don’t remind me of what awaits us if we’re caught. It makes me afraid.”

Thomas chuckled at that, his smile mischievous. “I’m very sneaky don’t worry. You know this, my deft little fingers are not the only part of me that’s quick.”

“Oh, you’re terribly naughty.”

“You wouldn’t have me any other way, Edward.”

His heart was fit to burst to hear how softly his name was said. “Of course not, my dearest Thomas. Light of my life.”

Thomas blushed at this and smacked him softly. “Oh, stop that. I hate your mushy nicknames. Now, as much as I’d love to keep kissing you, we have a costume to work on…. My dear Edward.”


	4. an unexpected gift (Thomas Jopson/Edward Little)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Once they were in the tent, he leapt in Edward’s arms, not for a kiss, but just to hold him. The hug was returned, Edward’s hand clutching the back of his coat hard and tight.

Thomas had been ecstatic to get the Terror Camp. He had said his goodbyes to Edward the night before he’d lead the first men on King William Land, it was the first time in 4 years they hadn’t been in proximity. It was hard to believe that it was during their first winter right off Beechey Island that this little romance started. It didn’t feel right to be separated after nearly 3 years.

That was over now. He helped set up the Captain’s tent and had set up a quick meeting with the stewards to make sure they knew their new duties here on land, then he had sought out Little. He soon found him, and they had stared at each other for a moment.

“Good to see you Lieutenant,” Thomas said, straightening up. He had to keep himself clean, not to show that he had missed him with a passion. He couldn’t safely. “I was looking for you.”

“I-it’s good to see you too, Mr. Jopson.” Edward was always terrible at this, he was stiff and looked nervous. “How can I help you?”

“I was wondering if I could run a few things by you? I just had a meeting with the stewards and I think this falls to you rather than the Captain.” A lie, but he needed an excuse to get into a tent with him.

“Well I should look over this and see if that’s true. Would you follow me? I have a tent to myself if that’s fine? Privacy might be good in discussing these things.”

“I agree.”

Thomas followed Edward, chatting a little about the set up of the camp, but for the most part they remained silent.

Once they were in the tent, he leapt in Edward’s arms, not for a kiss, but just to hold him. The hug was returned, Edward’s hand clutching the back of his coat hard and tight.

“I missed you.” Thomas whispered into his neck. “So much.”

“You know I missed you too.” Edward whispered back, pressing a quick kiss to his ear that made his body tingle. “I have something for you.”

“Oh?” They pulled apart and Edward was quick to go to his bed. “What could you give me?”

After a bit of rummaging, Edward pulled out a book. Thomas watched as he opened up the pages and pulled out paper, then something small.

“There isn’t a lot of vegetation here, barely even any moss. I found this though.” He said, before handing the little thing over to him. Thomas held it in his hand and marvelled at the small little flowers. “I think they’re Tufted Saxifrage, a tundra plant. I’d ask Dr. Goodsir about it though, he knows more about plants than I.”

The little flowers were white, with yellow middles and the stems red. “It’s so pretty.”

“I tried pressing them, but I think I need a heavier book.”

Thomas looked up from the flowers to Edward, beaming. “You spoil me. I love it. Thank you.”

Edward blushed deeply at this, his expression though was that default miserable look he always had. It was quite a combo.

“Edward?”

“Yes?”

Thomas gave grin. “Learn to smile.”

He looked shocked at first, before he did as he was told. Thomas always loved Edward’s smiles, the way he’d squint his eyes and how he was all teeth. He thought the little gaps and crookedness in them was cute. Hell, everything about Edward was cute. Thomas took the chance he had and closed the gap between them and kissed him tenderly.


	5. a private performance (John Goodsir/Edward Forbes)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So many questions. He had heard of a snowball fight getting out of hand down the way, but this was something else.

“Hide me. Police are after me”

John looked to Edward in confusion, he had just busted through the door of the anatomical room, his hair and clothes covered in snow and his entire attire a mess. Didn’t help that his accent was thicker a bowl of Christmas pudding. He pronounced Police as ‘Poleenyn”.

“I beg your-“

“You can beg later but let me beg now. I nailed a police man with a snowball and ran for my life.”

So many questions. He had heard of a snowball fight getting out of hand down the way, but this was something else.

“I suppose I should write a letter home and tell my ma that I am dating a harden criminal.” He laughed, but Edward was not amused.

“John you right arse, just help me!”

He moved away from the table he was working on. “Of course, of course, but I don’t want the ‘poleenyn’ in here so how about I shoved you out the window. Go running and find Syme. I’m sure he’ll harbour you till it’s all done. Or actually, find Harry back at Lothian. He’d be more than happy to accommodate you and scare off any intruders.”

Edward nodded. “Out a window. Won’t be the first time I’ve snuck away from out of a room after in engaging in elicit activities with you. It’s criminal to harbour a fugitive you know, and that’s technically what you’re doing right now. Dare say worse than buggering your friend.”

John had laughed at that. “That sounds like Professor Syme’s or Harry’s problem now.”

He had held the window open as Edward had climbed out and threw him down his scarf to wear once the man was on solid grown. He watched him run off, wondering how in hell he got mixed up with such a bizarre man.


	6. fire and ice (Harry Goodsir/Lady Silence)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She looked out the window again. The fireplace was roaring, and it was cozy in the living room, but outside looked so inviting. Harry had thought that he never wanted to see snow ever again, but this was different. The backyard looked beautiful, and the snow didn’t look cold, but rather soft.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's hints to the events in 'For the Beaufort Sea' which of course I recommend reading. It's not necessary to do so to read this chapter, but I'd really appreciate it lol

“Never seen so much snow right in our backyard,” Robert mused at breakfast. “Wish we overwintered in the Arctic just once, so I could have seen proper snow.”

It took Robert a moment to realise what he said, and he looked to Harry cautiously. He couldn’t help but laugh at his brother. “Maybe you should go on the Expedition being set up. Have you heard, they’re still going to try and find Erebus and Terror?”

They had talked a little about it, though it made his skin crawl to even think about those ships, all the while he kept glancing to Silna, who was looking at the window with wonder. After breakfast had finished, she had cornered him.

“You told me that it didn’t snow like this here.” She signed.

“Doesn’t always. This is very unusual how cold it’s been this year.”

She looked out the window again. The fireplace was roaring, and it was cozy in the living room, and yet outside looked so inviting. Harry had thought that he never wanted to see snow ever again, but this was different. This wasn't the kind of cold that would result in frost bitten fingers and a chill that seemed to seep right into your bones, threatening to never leave. This was something of beauty; the flakes falling down look soft and with the sun shining down, the snow seemed to sparkle like a thousand lights. 

“Do you want to go outside?” He asked her. She turned to him, eyes shining and nodded.

After taking time to put on as many layers as possible, they stepped out. It had snowed heavily over night, they had gone to bed to a light dusting and woke up to what had to be several inches of the stuff, with it still coming down. She stepped out happily onto the snow. She had changed into a thick wool dress (with winter here she seemed to favour dresses more since they offered more layers) and in one of his old fur lined cloaks and went bouncing off. She reminded him of Caesar, Joseph's dog, the first time he had stepped out into snow. The little Deerhound barely came up to the calf back then, and had nearly gotten lost in the snow, but had been happy to stay out as long as he was allowed. Her joy was very similar to that.

He watched as she gathered snow into her mitted hands and created a snowball which she tossed down the yard only to laugh and make more. His heart ached watching her so happy. He trekked about the yard trying keeping a steady eye on her, while also enjoying the view that was before him. The yard was surrounded by stone walls, but it was a large space that went down hill enough that he could see the harbour over the wall. Everything was white and covered. He thought he’d hate winter once he’d come back, but Harry found his heart full looking around his home.

He was so lost in thought, he nearly jumped when Silna wrapped her arms around him.

“ _Do you want to try and build a snow house?_ ” She asked, in gargled Inuktitut.

“Can we? I thought-“

She shook her head at him. “I am good at what I do.”

So, they got to work. She showed him how to pack the snow and make bricks of it, and then lamented that the igloo they would be making would be small for size.

Robert came out at one point, asking if he could watch, and then took notes at she explained as best as she could with her ruined tongue, how she would normally create one if they were back in the Arctic with traditional Netsilik tools. Harry loved watching his brother and Silna interact, they hadn't gotten along at first with how brash Robert was, but now they were fast friends. Despite how much his family tried to hide how their grief had affected them, with the lose of Archie being the hardest, it still was there in plain sight to see. Even the boundless happiness that Robert possessed was affected. Seeing him smile and laugh like he did before was enough to make Harry tear up.

By the time lunch had come around, the little igloo stood proud in the yard. He was amazed by how structurally sound it was, though she was right. It was small. Robert had begged to enter it first, and laughed as he almost got stuck wiggling in.

“After we eat,” She said. “We’ll grab all the furs we can. Blankets too. Lantern or something with fire. Want to try to live like a Netsilik?”

Harry nodded. “Almost reminiscent of our time travelling down King William.”

“Or with my people in the camp. You would have gotten to sleep in an igloo if winter had come around.”

He smiled at the thought of that. Nostalgia washed over him as he remembered his time among the Netsilik and wondering if Asiajuk and the other people he met were well. He even wished Meriwa well, even after everything.

After eating, they had scoured the entire house for spare blankets. She had pulled out the furs she brought with her to Scotland out of the chest where Silna had kept them, but never touched. They did keep one of the furs on their bed though, it's natural insulation proving incredibly useful with the cold weather. Harry took an old lantern from the shed and filled it with oil, and they felt set to at least spend some of the night out there. They even grabbed pillows.

She crawled in first and would stick her hand out every so often for another fur or blanket to lay down. Eventually she waved him in and he found himself almost having the same problem as Robert. Maybe this was testimony to him finally gaining weight.

Inside, it felt larger than it looked. The fur lined the ground, with the pillows and blankets acting as added comfort. It was inviting, and cozy.

“Warm.” He said. “A lot more than I expected.”

She pointed to the lantern. “Heat gets trapped.”

They talked for a bit, as Silna went on to describe what winter practices were like back in her home. He had pardoned himself at one point to bring back his notebook, so he could write it all down. The conversation turned from something instructional to pointless matters as they laid back. Halfway through him talking about a winter where he had to harbour a friend after he had thrown a snowball at a policeman, Silna kissed him on the lips.

“Thank you,” She whispered against him. She curled up into his shoulder.

“For what?”

“Making me miss everything less.” She looked up to him, her eyes a little wet. “I’m glad I came with you.”

He blushed at that and kissed her again, cupping her face in his hand.

“I love you so much,” He sighed.

“ _Asavakkit._ ” She whispered back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Asavakkit is just what you say to someone when they tell you "I love you". Its basically just saying I love you too.
> 
> Igloos are easy to make when you have a lot of snow, but at the same time hard if the snow is loose powder. I have spent much of my winter as a tiny Canuk making igloos and in the few times I actually got them right, they actually get warm really fast.
> 
> Also I love Robert.


	7. sledge ride (Thomas Blanky)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He regretted never getting to say goodbye properly. Not a goodbye with promise to return, but one you’d tell your love ones on your deathbed. Esther was not the sentimental type, she wouldn’t appreciate him morbing on like this. She’d tell him to knock it off and face what laid ahead in his usual manner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a sledge ride, in the loosest of terms lol

At the end of it all, Thomas Blanky allowed himself nostalgia.

The passage before him was white, still frozen solid and reminded him of how the River Mersey would freeze as well. He use to take Essie and Hannah out on the first day it was safe to walk out onto the river and skate. Sometimes even, his girls would bring their sled. Of course, Thomas would have to drag the sled himself with them on it giggling and crying for him to go faster.

At the end of a cold, but fun day he bring them back home, knowing full well that Esther would be there with hot tea and a toddy for him waiting.

Home was warm and spelled of sea salt on summer days and nutmeg when the window panes would freeze. It was the place Blanky saw when he closed his eyes, his imagination running wild and strong enough that he could hear his girls running around the rooms, the sounds of the cook in the kitchen and the folk outside going about their business. For a moment, he could feel Esther’s warm and strong hand holding his.

He regretted never getting to say goodbye properly. Not a goodbye with promise to return, but one you’d tell your love ones on your deathbed. Esther was not the sentimental type, she wouldn’t appreciate him morbing on like this. She’d tell him to knock it off and face what laid ahead in his usual manner.

“Get comfort from what you’ve done,” She’d say. “Don’t worry about us.”

He closed his eyes, trying to imagine how she’d look as she said that. He could see her as she was when he left, her dark blonde hair pulled up into a haphazard bun with stray hairs falling into her eyes. Esther would swipe at then with calloused fingers, and maybe pulled at that brown paisley shawl she loved so much. A gift he had gotten her the year before. She’d smile at him when he’d tell her alright, with their moment being interrupted by Hannah running into the room to tattle on Essie or something else. He could see it so clearly it felt real.

He opened his eyes slowly, not wanting the image to go away. Then he heard the unmistakable sounds of stone moving. Something heavy was walking towards him.

He blinked slowly, taking in this one last moment. Across the Passage and out to the Pacific was home, where his Esther would be going about not knowing she was about to become a widow. He sent his love to her silently, one last time.

A low growl was heard, and he couldn’t help him. He smiled wickedly.

“What in the name of God took you so fuckin’ long?” He asked the creature. He stretched his back out, the sound of the forks attached to him clinked. He turned around to face the thing, it’s ugly face barely changed from the last time.

It snorted, before releasing a growl again, and Blanky couldn’t stop himself from laughing manically.

The only thing he’d regret now was if he couldn’t take this bastard down with him.


	8. by candlelight (Harry Goodsir)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Silence was prettier than the Tailor’s daughter. Prettier than any woman he had ever scene before if he was to be honest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're observant, I'm missing a day.
> 
> I lost yesterday and today's prompt BUT I had sent a screenshot of today's prompt to a friend so I was able to recover. If I get time, I'll rewrite yesterday's prompt and put it up, but for now, I'm lazy.

Harry couldn’t help but watch her sleep. He had never seen Silence like this before, soft and vulnerable. One could argue, that he had before. Entering into her little room in a closest, she had been vulnerable. This was a different type how ever. Whatever mask she wore, it was off now.

They had stopped using the lantern he had been able to bring along and instead had switch to a seal-oil light; _kudlik_ , as she had taught him once. The light was dimmer compared to that of the lantern and more amber in colour. The shadows that appeared on her face created a softer appearance than if any other light source had been used.

He was flustered taking in her beauty. As his mind wandered, he felt himself blush and his heart beat harder.

Despite common belief, Harry was fully aware of women. Men too, though less often. He had found himself admiring them, when he had the chance, though when he did he ever between his studies. The last woman he had ever felt a pang of something for had been a woman from his hometown. It had been when he had gone home for a couple of seasons. He was working with his father while also trying to categorise creatures he pulled up in fishing in the Firth. Her father had been tailor, and she worked with dyes herself. He remembered going to get fitted for a new waistcoat, as it was cheaper in Anstruther to do so than in Edinburgh and being flustered by this pretty girl whose fingers had the slightest hues of greens and oranges on them.

Then his mother had gotten sick and died, so he threw everything away and focused back on his studies and grief.

Silence was prettier than the Tailor’s daughter. Prettier than any woman he had ever scene before if he was to be honest. Her cheekbones were soft and rounded which led down to a strong jaw. In sleep her mouth was popped open just a little, her lips pursed. They looked soft and inviting, the colour of them almost like the heathers Jane grew. She had a lovely shape to her nose too, it wasn’t dainty like what was desired back in Britain, but strong and defined. Her hair in the light appeared dark, like black onyx, with hints of deep browns. If she opened her eyes, he’d be able to note the fine almond shape and the depth to them.

Harry took in the other little features of her. Her windburned cheeks, the little mole by her nose, how youthful she looked and the warm hues of her skin. Silence was radiant. There was a temptation in him to reach out and touch her. He wanted to know how it felt to have her in his arms, to fall asleep together.

This was to put to an end as she became to rouse from sleep. Harry panicked, realising how odd it’d seem if he was still awake. He closed his eyes fast and feigned deep breathing; hoping that she would be fooled by it.

He could do nothing about how his heart hammered away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm gay for Silna and live vicariously through Harry. Imagine me writing this while lovingly staring a picture of her, and you won't be wrong.


	9. in hot water (Jane Goodsir)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jane suddenly could envision Sophia with a crown of flowers, those delicate pink ones she fancied with look so fine in her blonde hair.

She stared at the letter before her, marvelling in the tiny, yet so distinct ways Sophia Cracroft wrote. Jane could not help herself in tracing the little letters, with its fine loops and exaggerated pulls. The letter itself in the eyes of anyone else, was not important, but to Jane is meant the world. She felt her heart tug, looking at the ways her Sophia wrote out her name. Jane was horribly common, but in this fine handwriting, it looked extraordinary and unique. Sophia had a way of making Jane feel extraordinary and unique; not something she was very use to.

She was envious of Sophia, who seemed to have more free will to travel and do as she pleased. Jane was more than sure, once married to the soon to be knighted Mr. Crozier, she would retain much of her freedom as well. This was a situation any woman would be jealous of, or at least any woman who craved freedom.

Jane did not crave freedom, but rather wished for equal opportunity. She wanted something akin to her brothers. Harry had been free enough to drop his job to run off to the Arctic, and get lost in the progress. Though Jane would never want to live the hardship he had, she wished that she could of been capable of such a thing.

When Harry had arrived home with Silna in tow, she had expected her brother to go back to Edinburgh and resume what he had left behind. Instead, he had told her he had no desire to do so, and that he was fit to say put in Anstruther. With her. So, when a letter came in the mail inviting him to some sort of dinner in London, a commemoration of the lives lost in the expedition, Jane was sure that in his stubbornness Harry would refuse the invite.

Instead he had asked her if she wanted to go with him.

“It’s not fair that while the rest of us get to go everywhere, you’re stuck here in Fife.” He had told her over a cup of tea. She wouldn’t lie, she felt a tug of something in her. She was aware of how horrifically jealous she was of her brothers, all of them getting to peruse their education, while she stayed at home. John got to make a name for himself, and Robert given the chance to hop about careers; she was trained in homemaking, refused proposals and tried her hardest to create something out of interest in botany.

Hearing him say how unfair it was made something rise up in her. “And what about Silna?” was all she could ask instead. She swallowed down her jealousy, though it did not go down easily.

He had shrugged in response. “Who says I can’t bring the both of you with me?”

So, she found herself in London. It turned out that Lady Jane Franklin had orchestrated the dinner, an attempt to gather more funding to send another expedition again to the Arctic. This time, recovery. Her ladyship was in the mind she could recover her late husband's body and have it buried properly, though Harry in a rare moment told her something about the expedition. All that had been left of Sir John was a solidarity leg. She was never given a chance to ask why only one leg. She felt pity for the widow, but that was that.

Jane found herself completely and utter unamused with this Lady Jane and wished that she didn’t share a name. She was smart and resourceful, but something about the woman rubbed her wrong. The niece however, Jane found herself nearly a wreck in her company.

It had begun simply. Jane had been introduced to Francis Crozier, someone she immediately liked, and was then introduced to his fiancée. The aforementioned Sophia Cracroft.

Jane was immediately entranced. Sophia was all soft edges, nothing sharp about her. Except her eyes. Those beautiful blue eyes, which seemed to be permanently watery, but gaze strong and knowing. She felt her mouth go dry as she took in every sight of the woman. When she smiled, Jane knew she was lost.

Harry had been pulled away by a conversation with another old ship mate (name evaded her, but his greying hair and stern expression made him distinct in her mind), when she finally got to speak to Miss Cracroft.

“I’m afraid I know so much about your brothers,” Sophia had begun with. “But I know nothing about you.”

Jane had felt colour rise to her cheeks under her stare. “Yes, well I am not surprised about that. The Expedition had been all the talk around, even in the little village where I am from. Harry got famous being lost and Robert in his searching.”

“Yes, I suppose. I've read the book your brother, Robert that is, wrote, and had the pleasure meeting him.” She had given a little smile there. “It was interesting seeing the expedition from his eyes, but I’m rather tired of all the talk, having had to live through the fear that came with it.”

“I agree. My family suffered greatly.” She hadn’t ever felt so jittery in her life before. “I read about you in the papers. Companion to Lady Jane, correspondents and so on. You strike me as a formidable woman.” Jane mentally slapped herself for that comment. She had just said she was tired of the talk; changing the subject would have worked better. Sophia didn’t seem to mind.

“I can only hope history remembers what my aunt and I did. And if I may add to that list, I hope to learn more about you; if history won’t have your story like it will have your brothers', I’d like to claim myself then.”

Jane knew she was bright red then. She felt herself stutter out the words, something she’d normally talk about with pride, but now with complete shyness. “I am an amateur botanist. No formal study, just dedication.”

Jane had given a weak smile to her then, which Sophia returned brightly. “If that so? As in more than just flower language?"

Jane nodded. “I have written a few articles which have made their way to the journals publish by the Botanical Society of Edinburgh. My brother’s friend, Dr. Edward Forbes helped found it and we are very close ourselves. I am held in esteem I can say with confidence.”

Sophia looked impressed, which only led to her heart beating faster. "I've heard of Dr. Forbes. You must be amazing if he thinks your writing is worthy for his society."

Jane could have died happy there. Pride was getting to her now though and she wished to boast more in the most polite way she could. “Miss Cracroft, may I ask what your favourite flower is?”

“You may, Miss Goodsir. Snapdragons.”

Jane suddenly could envision Sophia with a crown of flowers, those delicate pink ones she fancied with look so fine in her blonde hair.

“Snapdragons are beautiful, but of course that isn’t their scientific name.” Jane said matter-of-factly. “ _Antirrhinum majus_ or the Common Snapdragon is a flower found mainly in the Mediterranean or Northern France. They belong to the Scrophulariaceae family; the leaves and flowers can be used to treat inflammation. Their nickname comes from the fact that when you squeeze the 'throat' of the flower, it's 'mouth' pops open. Given way to resemblance of a dragon.”

“Quite impressive. Snap open the mouth and make a dragon. Makes it's common name very clever.” Sophia said, her expression showing just how delighted she was. “You memorised all of this?”

Jane nodded. “I’ve always been good at memorisation. Also, I grow snapdragons from time to time. My father and mother were very enthusiastic when it came to my interest. If I had been able, my father would have funded a formal education for my, but you know how it is. So, I learned on my own.”

“And you call me the formidable one. I could never have such dedication. I’ve always been interested in the natural, but I have never had time to study it as deeply as I’d like. I would love to know more, I’m fascinated.”

And this begun a conversation of the scientific, which then led into a conversation about each other, about family and anything else they could fit in. They had stayed in London for several more days after that and she was invited over to keep company with Sophia nearly every day.

That had led to the correspondences they now were keeping up. The letter Jane had sent was pressing of snapdragons she had grown. They had been one of the first to bloom, they were a flower that could survive frost and even thrive in it. Jane had made a witty remark that Sophia and her favourite were not too far apart. They thrived even in the hardest of times.

“ _You say that I am the one to thrive, much like the Antirrhinum, when times are not kind, but I fear you are mistaking myself for someone else. That is to say you. I have never known a woman so capable and strong, my dearest Jane, and you should put more faith in yourself. Else you do yourself a disfavour, and as you friend, I cannot stand for a slight against your character.”_

She traced the words ‘my dearest Jane’ and felt her heart beat away uncontrollably. There were feelings there, ones that needed to be ignored, as one should not feel such a way for an engaged woman.

Jane Ross Goodsir could not help herself though. She was incredibly in love with the lovely Sophia Cracroft.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unlike in the 1840/50's, Common Snapdragons are no longer considered apart of the Scrophulariaceae.
> 
> Also Jane is a lesbian.

**Author's Note:**

> harrygoodsirs.tumblr.com


End file.
